5 Times Steve & Bucky Skyped and 1 Time They Couldn't
by mmjgwrites
Summary: INFINITY WAR SPOILERS! . . . I'm still dealing with a lot of feels over Bucky's death. One of the movie writers suggested that Bucky and Steve were skyping during the two years when Steve was an insurgent, so I'm taking that idea and running with it. First chapter starts at the end of the Black Panther after credits scene. Last chapter takes place post-Infinity War. STUCKY
1. Chapter 1

"Come, much more for you to learn," Shuri said.

The ride back to her lab was calm and quiet. If the engine was roaring beneath them, Bucky couldn't hear it.

Bucky. The name finally felt right, felt like his.

At first, his time in Wakanda had been filled with appointments with Shuri, therapist visits, and too many pills to swallow in one gulp. It hadn't been that long since they declared him stable and asked how he wanted to spend his time.

The farm was a refuge. He woke with the sun to feed the goats and tend the crops. He had planted every seed and built everything but his hut. The fence had taken several days to complete. Everything took a long time with one arm, but the work was good. It made him sweaty and tired and gave him the space to come back to himself.

Lessons with Shuri weren't like any he ever had before. In the beginning, there had been pain and frustration as they worked to detangle the mess of his mind, but there were also breaks and support and relief. Now there was no pain at all. They walked together through his mind, making sure everything hummed as it should, pulled out any knots they found.

But Shuri said he still had much to learn, and he wasn't sure what that meant. Bucky used the techniques he had learned, focusing on the reality of his concerns and working through any discomfort he felt. Whatever came next, it would be ok.

After only half an hour, Shuri pressed a button and Bucky was lifted from the table that analyzed his brain waves and neurons. The cushions reshaped into a chair beneath him. "I have something for you," she said, a smile played on her lips, though Bucky noticed a crease in her brow too. She handed him a slim rectangle roughly the size of a hardcover book.

He turned it over in his hands. It was textured black plastic but only one side was sealed, so he knew it could be opened like a book. Wakanda was full of technology more advanced than what any of the sci-fi novels he read when he was a kid imagined. The plastic brick he held didn't look too impressive compared to what else was in the lab, but he hadn't opened it yet. He wasn't certain that he wanted to. Bucky looked at the brilliant young scientist, waiting for an explanation without asking for it.

"It's a laptop. A computer. You can use it to keep up with what's going on in the world. Entertain yourself."

Bucky held the laptop between them, gesturing for her to take it back. "My goats are all the entertainment I need, and I don't want to know what's going on in the world."

Shuri made an exasperated sigh, but she didn't actually look upset. She put her hands behind her back and turned away from him. Bucky put the computer behind him on the chair.

"That's too bad," Shuri said. "Steve will be disappointed."

"Steve?" Bucky couldn't keep the longing out of his voice. He had only seen Steve once since they'd woken him up and it had been a short visit. After that, they'd barely spoken.

He knew Steve was a fugitive and had to keep moving. Bucky wanted him to be safe, to keep helping people however he could. That's what Steve did. But he also wanted to wake up next to Steve. He wanted Steve to help him feed the goats and watch the sunset. Because he remembered.

He remembered everything. Remembered the games they played on their walk to school. Remembered dragging Steve out of fights whenever he could. Remembered their first kiss, warm and too wet. Remembered the way his hands shook the first time he touched the skinny guy he had loved his whole life. Remembered how they said I love you for the first time, mid-fight not long after they moved in together. Remembered the war. Remembered Steve saving him. Remembered falling.

But the falling and all that happened after didn't matter. Not anymore. He was alive. Steve was alive. Bucky knew who Steve was. He knew who Bucky was. As much as he loved his goats, he knew he'd go with Steve if only he asked. But Steve was too good to be that selfish, so Bucky had to let him go, had to let Steve help however he could. Because that's what Steve did.

"He was looking forward to talking with you again," Shuri said. "He wanted to see you."

Bucky twisted in his seat, grabbing the computer from where he left it. "He can see me with this?"

Shuri nodded. "It's like a phone conversation, but you can see one another. Want me to show you?"

"Please," Bucky whispered. It wasn't as good as Steve being with him, but it was so much more than he had now. "Please, Shuri."

She smiled at him. "Of course."

Bucky wasn't sure what time it was where Steve was, but it was already past his usual bedtime. That was ok. Steve was worth waiting for, but Bucky was tired. After Shuri showed him how to use the computer, he had come back to the farm and worked until sunset. Then, the children who called him White Wolf brought him dinner, giggling as they ran away.

He usually ate, checked on the animals one more time, and went to bed. Now, he had watched the clock on the computer tick off forty-three minutes and his eyelids were starting to sag, but Steve was supposed to call in seven minutes. He could wait seven minutes. He could wait forever.

All the sudden, the screen flashed blue-not the deep cornflower blue of Steve's eyes, but a glaring cartoon blue that made his eyes hurt. A grating melody of beeps filled his hut. By the time Bucky pressed the answer button, he was more focused on getting the sensory attack to stop than on who would show up when he clicked on it.

"Bucky?" Steve's voice was excited but hesitant. "Can you hear me, Buck?"

"Steve? Steve. I'm here. Can you hear me?"

"Yeah. There you are. You look- Wow. You look really good, Buck."

Bucky smiled, looking down at his crossed legs then up through his eyelashes. Seeing Steve sent his stomach twisting in the most excitable way. "I feel good. What about you? Everything ok out there?"

"I'm doing all right," Steve said. "We're still not staying in any one place more than a couple weeks, if that. How are your lessons going?"

"They're down to once a week. I went today, but only for a little while. Shuri wants me to use this thing to keep up with world events, so I guess that's the next step."

Steve's mouth clamped shut, but it didn't stay that way for long. "You don't have to do that, Buck. Not if you don't want to. You take care of yourself. That's what matters most."

Bucky let out a dry laugh and shook his head. Even from however many thousands of miles away he was, Steve could sense Bucky's uneasiness. He'd raise hell with Shuri if need be, even though she was the one most responsible for Bucky's mended mind.

Steve wouldn't let anything hurt Bucky ever again, not if he could stop it. The show of fierce protection filled Bucky with a warm rush of affection and a heavy dose of snark. "Don't be such a punk, Rogers. She's just trying to take care of me." When Bucky's eyes met Steve's again, the picture was clear enough to see the wetness blurring the blue irises. "Hey, you ok?"

Steve blinked away the moisture and shook his head as if to clear it. "Yeah, Buck. I'm great. That's just- That was the first time- You haven't called me that, joked around like that, since before...everything. She really did bring you back, didn't she?"

"Yeah, pal. I'm here. It's me."

"I've missed you so much," Steve said. His eyes were wet again.

"I've missed you too, punk."


	2. Chapter 2

Steve burst off the couch and stomped across the hotel room to the television sitting on the faux wood dresser. He pressed the power button like it had personally insulted him and winced when he felt the plastic break beneath his finger. They'd have to pay for that. At least he had shut up the talking heads.

There hadn't been any huge disasters or alien invasions, but that didn't mean there weren't things of substance happening in the world. Instead of the reports on world affairs he expected to find on cable news, he had just watched half of a two-hour panel where four people debated whether or not the world was better off without Captain America.

World-threatening disaster or no, Steve knew there were still people who needed aid and behind-the-scenes missions he could be doing to keep the world safe. They had cut the head off of Hydra, but it would be a mistake to assume there weren't more to hack away. Hydra was hardly the only concern, but going rogue meant losing access to his daily security briefings. If something happened, he'd have to wait to hear about it on TV.

His eyes trailed to the flip phone sitting on the nightstand. Tony had the number. Steve had to trust that if he was needed, if there was something big enough or important enough, Tony would call, but he honestly didn't know if the phone's silence was because he wasn't needed or because he wasn't wanted. Either way, listening to the drone of 24-hour news wasn't going to keep him informed in advance. Natasha always got her intelligence from internet sources. Perhaps it was time he followed her example.

But he'd have to wait to ask Natasha about that, because she and Sam were out, taking advantage of the nice weather and trying out some new disguises. Maybe he needed some sunshine too.

It took half an hour to get the false mustache to adhere properly to the skin between his nose and lip. It looked ridiculous. He had missed the seventies, but from what he'd seen Steve was pretty sure he'd fit right in with the caterpillar replica stuck to his face.

Next, he put in the contact lenses that changed his irises from deep sea blue to forest green and ran a comb through his growing hair. He had never worn it this long, and he was still getting used to the darker shade Nat had dyed it. At first, he couldn't pass a mirror without taking a second glance at his strange reflection. Now, it was starting to grow on him. Taking in his transformed image, he was pleased to find he didn't look like his self. But he still hated the mustache.

Putting on a pair of aviator sunglasses, Steve walked out of the hotel room in baggy clothes and a baseball cap. It wasn't until he was at the corner stoplight that he realized he didn't know where he wanted to go. A walk would be nice, but there weren't any parks nearby and he didn't want to wander aimlessly.

Helpfully, his stomach grumbled and reminded him of the measly food choices he had picked from that morning. The three of them couldn't live on protein bars and dry cereal forever. Decision made, Steve made his way over the crosswalk and down the three blocks to the nearest grocery store.

His eyes scanned the strip mall automatically, checking for any threats or suspicious activity. When he noticed a thin man glancing around with a guilty look on his face and standing stiffly beside a car parked far from any of the store entrances, Steve found himself feeling relieved. Finally, something to do besides run and hide.

Seeing how nervous the man was, Steve assumed he would run like a deer in headlights if he saw him coming, so he stepped quietly over the pavement until he was only a few feet away and then angled into a blind spot the man wouldn't see unless he turned completely around. Sure enough, the man had a metal rod jammed down the driver side window. There was sweat on his brow and his hands kept slipping.

Steve was ready to surprise the thief when a new thought occurred to him. What exactly was his plan? Haul the guy into the nearest police station? That wasn't an option. He couldn't call the authorities or even try to hand him off to a security guard without having to give a statement. That was too risky.

Steve was still trying to decide what the best course of action was when he heard the lock click open. The man sighed, sounding relieved. He pulled the rod out of the window and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. When he went to open the door, Steve knew he couldn't delay anymore.

"You don't want to do that," Steve said. He didn't remember what country they were in at the moment and hoped English would suffice.

The man spun, eyes wide and shocked. Steve's baggy clothes hid the cut of his muscles but not the bulk of his size. He had at least half a foot on the man and almost twice his width. The man gulped, his neck bulging from the pressure of swallowing. He looked Steve up and down twice, then dropped the rod and ran for it.

Steve let out a huff. He was tempted to follow the man and find out his story. Maybe he was an addict or maybe he was trying to feed his family. Whatever it was, he needed help. Steve's stomach soured. He couldn't help that man, but at least he had stopped whoever owned the car from having a bad day. But maybe they were having a bad day anyway.

The rod had rolled under the car a few inches when the man dropped it. Steve bent over and grabbed it, then snapped it in half. He carried it with him to the store entrance, dropping it in a trash can before walking inside.

He strolled along the shelves looking for things that would satisfy Nat's sweet tooth and Sam's love of all things spicy. He stopped a couple of times to help other customers.

There was a little girl who let go of her balloon string. She was jumping frantically after it, but the helium kept carrying it toward the ceiling. Steve grabbed the ribbon and knelt down to tie it around her tiny wrist, gaining a smile from the little girl but a frown from her mother. He nodded, hoping he looked respectable, before continuing down the aisle.

He helped a frail, wrinkled man reach a bottle of oil on the highest shelf. When the oil was securely in his cart, the elderly citizen said, "Thank you, young man." Steve smiled and said he was happy to help, trying not to think about the fact that he was technically the older of the two.

In the produce department, Steve picked out some fruits and vegetables that were easy to eat raw and could either stay out or fit into a mini-fridge. His cart already held a bunch of bananas and a few apples when he passed the plums.

Bucky loved plums, always had. Before he had turned on the news, Steve had woken up happy because today was Bucky day. The thought of talking to Bucky brought a smile to his face so wide his cheeks ached. He had already picked out more than would be convenient to carry back to the hotel, but Steve filled a bag with plums anyway. He'd have to ask Bucky if there were plums in Wakanda.

When he got back to the hotel, Nat and Sam were already there. They spent the next couple of hours talking and watched a sitcom Sam liked.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm starving," Sam said when the show ended.

Steve gestured to the bags sitting next to the television with an exasperated expression.

"Yeah, but that's all snack food. I need a hot meal."

Nat make an agreeable noise. "Not fast food. I'm sick of fast food. Anything sound good to you?" she said, raising a newly blonde eyebrow at Steve.

Steve shook his head "A hot meal does sound good, but Bucky's supposed to call soon. Bring me something back?"

"You got it, man," Sam said.

Twenty minutes later, they were gone and Steve was sitting on his bed with his laptop open, waiting for a green dot to appear beside Bucky's username. He assumed Shuri set it up for him because he couldn't imagine Bucky calling himself WhiteWolf1917.

As soon as the circle of green appeared, Steve pressed the button to call. Bucky appeared before him, streams of evening sunlight brightening his face. His hair was pulled back in a bun like it almost always was now. Steve worried he was being insensitive when he had asked how Bucky managed to style it like that but was delighted when Bucky smiled and told Steve about the children who found him every morning to fix his hair and teach him bits of isiXhosa.

Bucky hadn't seen Steve yet. He was looking over his right shoulder. Suddenly, his body lurched away from the computer as he dove to grab at something.

"Hey! Bucky? Is everything ok?" Steve asked as the picture jostled around on his screen.

"Stop being such a brat," Bucky said.

"Huh?" Steve asked, but then Bucky was turning around with something fuzzy clutched in his arm. It was a goat.

"Hey!" Bucky said, eyes finally on Steve. "Sorry. Sam's been chasing Spidey around all day. I'm gonna have to tether him if he won't calm down."

Steve heard the whiny bleating of goats nearby, but the brown one currently occupying Bucky's lap was silent. Out of nowhere, its tongue darted out and left a wet streak across Bucky's chin.

"Give me all the kisses you want," Bucky said. "I'm still not letting you down."

The goat made a noise at that, bumping its horns against Bucky's chest but not putting up much of a fight otherwise. There were black circles around its eyes, almost like goggles. Steve laughed. "Bucky, did you actually name that goat after Sam?"

"Of course I did! Fits him perfectly. Even got the silly mask around his eyes," Bucky said. His hand was on Sam's head, petting the dark fur in little circles.

"And, uh, Spidey?" Steve asked.

"Well, yeah. That one's barely through being a kid. He's always getting into everything, curious as can be. He's lucky he's so fast or Sam would have caught him by now."

Steve laughed again. "Got any goats named after me?"

Bucky shook his head. "Haven't met a goat as stubborn as you yet."

Steve chuckled. "Always got a joke, don't you, jerk?"

"You make it too easy, Stevie. Speaking of which, what's on your face? Looks like you grew a third eyebrow."

Steve touched his cheek and forehead before he realized what Bucky was talking about. He stroked the fake hair above his lips with two fingers. "What's wrong, Buck? Can't appreciate a fine-lookin' mustache when you see one?"

"Oh, come on. Don't be a punk. You know that thing is hideous."

"I think it suits me," Steve said, wiggling his eyebrows for affect, but when his eyes went down to the window with his own image, he couldn't hold back a laugh. "Oh, man. I look like a walrus with this thing on, don't I?"

Bucky had a smirk on his face watching Steve laugh at himself. "That is an unfair insult to walruses. But, yes. Please tell me that thing is fake."

Steve wiped a humorous tear from the corner of his eye and nodded. "Yeah. It's fake. I'd rip it off if it wouldn't hurt so much."

"You gotta find a better way to camouflage. You look like a creep with that thing on," Bucky said.

"You got any better ideas, jerk?"

"So glad you asked because as a matter of fact, I do. As usual."

"Ok, Buck. What's your brilliant plan?"

"Grow your own facial hair. You can dye it to cover the blonde. Captain America's never had a beard, right?"

"No," Steve said. "I've always shaved."

"It's not the forties anymore. No one is gonna look at you twice if you've got a beard. Don't you like mine?"

Steve licked his lips and gulped. "Yeah, Buck. It looks good. You think I'd look all right with one?"

"Yeah, Stevie," Bucky said, his eyes relaxed and focused on Steve's lips. "You'll look real nice."


	3. Chapter 3

The summer sun in Wakanda gave Bucky a new appreciation for the cooling powers of sweat. He couldn't help but squint beneath the blinding brightness of the solar rays. Heat stunned his pores. A loose pair of shorts was the only item of clothing he could bring himself to wear, and the waistband was already collecting an edge of sweat. In spite of it all, Bucky didn't hope for snow.

He pumped water into a three-gallon bucket, carried it to the trough for the goats, then went to fill it again. Four trips later, it still wasn't full thanks to the goats' thirst. For once, Sam wasn't picking on Spidey, apparently too dehydrated to bother the tiny auburn-furred goat. Brooklyn and Widow were the last two to show up for lunch, happy to wait until the others were done to fill their bellies.

When he was sure there was enough feed and water for each of his hooved friends, Bucky took refuge on a tree-shaded patch of grass, resting against the trunk and enjoying the slight wisps of breezes that came his way. Beyond the bleating and eating sounds the goats were making, there wasn't much to hear but random bird calls and an occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

Bucky let his eyes fall shut, trusting the safety of his surroundings. Without visual input, his mind focused on each prickling sensation of his skin. The tangled mass of hot and wet resolved into patches and pores. His lips were dry, so he licked along the strips of skin then sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The soft scrape sparked a trove of memories, many he had thought of a lot over the last couple of weeks.

Steve loved his mouth. Bucky could drive him wild with nothing more than his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. Bucky knew how much it revved Steve up and used to use it to his advantage, staring at him from across a crowded room while biting his lips or applying an extra layer of lip balm just to watch Steve's eyes go wide when they got ready in the morning. Bucky knew his mouth was talented, remembered how he made Steve moan and cry out with it, but that wasn't what Bucky missed the most.

He missed kissing Steve. Rushed, sloppy smooches with too much teeth. Reverent explorations of every peak and hollow of Steve's slim body. Delighted investigations of his serum-enhanced core and limbs when they managed to stay awake after a mission with the Howling Commandos. Sweet, soul-revitalizing meetings of lips that took Bucky's breath away and affirmed again and again just how much he loved Steve and how deeply he was loved in return.

It had been a lifetime since he had put his lips on Steve. Bucky craved it with an intensity that could not be sated by memories or imagination. Seeing Steve on a screen and talking to him regularly took the desires to a new level, until they invaded every third thought and got him half hard in the middle of chores.

It was bad enough before he told Steve everything he remembered. Steve's reaction made everything good and right and real. It also made Bucky completely, unbearably horny. He could remember every word of their conversation that night, his mind unwilling to let go of any happy memories now.

That night, short stubble covered the lower half of Steve's face. Bucky would have laughed at the way Steve couldn't go more than thirty seconds without scratching the new growth if it wasn't for how excited he was by the promise of bearded Steve. "You actually did it," Bucky said, a bit breathless.

Steve's shoulders scrunched, his eyes a little downcast as he answered. "You said I'd look nice. It's like having a Brillo pad on my face. It's too much, isn't it?"

"I love it." Bucky gulped down the flame of wild need he felt at this rugged version of Steve. "Let it grow out, Stevie."

"All right, Buck."

Not for the first time, Bucky thought he recognized the same hunger he felt in Steve's expression. This time, though, Bucky couldn't think of a reason to wait or resist the urge to tell Steve all that he remembered, all that he still wanted. "Stevie, I- I know what we used to be."

Steve's face scrunched at that, worried and pained. "What do you mean, Buck? You're my best friend, same as always."

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, but there was more. We were in love."

Steve's mouth opened, his lips quivering around all the things he could say. Bucky saw his uncertainty and waited for the words to come. "Yeah, pal. We were. I'll always love you. You know that, right? But you don't have to- We don't have to- I mean, you've been through a lot. I don't need- You don't have to-"

Steve was completely fumbling this, which meant he wanted it as much as Bucky did. Bucky let out a sigh of relief and a huff of laughter, holding his hand up to stop Steve's stuttering. "Stevie, I'm still in love with you. Did you really think that was gonna change just cause you went and made yourself a popsicle for seventy years?"

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "You stupid jerk." When his laughs faded, Steve's eyes brightened with sincerity. "I love you, Buck. God, I love you. Why are we doing this over a computer? I need you. Now."

Bucky could still picture the dark lust in Steve's eyes when he had said that. The image made him shiver despite the dry, battering heat of the afternoon. They had Skyped once since that night, a rushed conversation before Steve hopped on a plane. Two weeks later and all Steve had time to send was a half a dozen emails, none of which were more than a paragraph in case they were intercepted. He was safe, that was all Bucky needed, but there was a growing list of things he wanted, and at the very top was kissing Steve.

When things calmed down enough for Steve to Skype, the first thing Bucky noticed was the beard. Given the near constant barrage of sexual thoughts he'd been enduring, Bucky was only a little surprised by the amount of wicked fantasies that immediately entered his head.

All of Steve's hair was dark, almost brunette. His scruff was neat and trimmed but full enough for Bucky to run his nails through it. The hair on Steve's head was longer too. It was combed back, but a lock of it fell from where it had been to tickle Steve's jaw. Now, Bucky would be able to run his fingers through Steve's hair and actually hold on. All he could think of was pulling a fistful of it. That was definitely going on the running list of things Bucky wanted.

"Can you hear me, Buck?"

"Huh? Yeah." Bucky coughed though his throat was clear. "Yeah, what was that?"

"Do they have plums in Wakanda? I keep meaning to ask you."

Bucky laughed. Here he busy was imagining all the ways he could get the disgraced Captain America naked while Steve innocently asked about the availability of his favorite fruit. "Of course they have plums. They have everything. That's one of the reasons why I love this place."

"Good," Steve said, looking genuinely satisfied. "You deserve all the plums you can eat."

Bucky smiled at his favorite dork, bit his lip when he eyes roamed over Steve's beard again. All the sudden, he imagined eating a plum, the sweet juice running down his chin and Steve licking it off before Bucky could wipe it away. Bucky's breath hitched as he blinked away the seductive thought. "When can you visit? I want to see you in person."

Steve's mouth twisted like it always did when he couldn't give Bucky what he wanted. "Soon. I promise. Soon as I can."

"When though?" Bucky said, barely keeping a whine out of his voice. "Two days? Two months? I miss you. It's painful seeing you and not being able to touch you. I can't stop thinking about getting my hands on you, getting your hands on me. I need you, Stevie."

"I need you too, Buck. Just a little while longer, I promise. Until then, why don't we use being able to see each other to our advantage?"

Bucky frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know about you, but I've been going out of my mind wanting to be with you again. It's been so long. Thought maybe we could take the edge off." Steve shrugged, watching for Bucky's reaction out of the corner of his eye.

Bucky grinned when it clicked. "You want to watch me touch myself, Stevie?"

Steve moaned, low and desperate. "Don't be a tease, Buck. It's been too long. Let me see you."

Bucky didn't have it in him to tease. He was starved for release. Several lonely handjobs had left him frustrated as of late. Bucky knew that this wouldn't truly scratch the itch either, but it would be better. He'd get to see Steve and hear his voice, watch as Steve chased his own release.

Bucky knew how to wait, how to stay calm and relaxed until it was time to take another breath. This wouldn't be enough to fill his lungs, not even close to having Steve in his arms, but it would do for now, ease the burning in his chest. Bucky pushed the computer away to give himself room to undress. Even with one arm, he managed to strip in mere seconds. He knelt in front of the screen, fisting his cock with Steve's eyes on him.

But the excitement turned bitter when it occurred to Bucky that Steve hadn't seen him, not like this, not after what Hydra had done to him. He was comfortable in his body, especially now that the metal arm was gone along with the pain it caused his shoulder and back. But even without that symbol of the Winter Soldier, his body had been changed drastically by Zola's experiments. This was the body he had used to beat Steve bloody, to shoot him. This was the body that tried to kill Steve.

Bucky's skin crawled. How had he ever managed to feel comfortable in this monstrosity? How could he think-

Steve's voice broke through the spiral of thoughts. "You're gorgeous, Buck. Can't wait to get my mouth on every inch of you."

Bucky's head fell back at the compliment. He sucked in a breath and ran through a quick mental checklist, ridding himself of the negativity as best he could. He was ok. Steve loved him. All was well.

"Bucky?" There was an anxious edge in the lusty tone of Steve's voice. "Is something wrong?"

No. Bucky refused to lose this moment to the past. He pulled up and down the length of his cock again, bringing attention and blood flow back to the present. "You're still wearing a bunch of clothes, punk. That's what's wrong."

Steve's brow eased, opening back up to bliss. His shirt came off first, exposing the deep curves of his hips, the tight mold of his abs, and the swell of his pecs. He slipped off his place on the bed, leaving Bucky to view a white wall, high wooden headboard, and the bottom edge of a framed art poster. Bucky swallowed, eager for Steve's bare body to reappear while another part of his brain cursed the hotel room and demanded to know why Steve wasn't in Wakanda with him.

Bucky's longing turned completely carnal when Steve came back on screen. Had Stevie's dick gotten wider since Bucky had last seen it? Nah, but it was even more impressive than he'd remembered. How would he get any chores done with that thick, veined giant on his mind?

Steve dragged his thumb over the tip, spreading the slick of his precum to ease the way for his hand. Bucky licked his lips, yearning to refresh the smell and taste of Steve's musk in his mind. Taking Steve down his throat had been impossible after the serum, but Bucky thought his enhanced body would be able to handle it now. Just like that, he could practically feel Steve filling his mouth.

Steve's looked dizzy as his gaze roved over Bucky's body, hardly pausing on any one spot. Bucky preened, spreading his legs wider to offer a full view and tilting his head to show Steve the collarbone where he used to plant hickies that no one would see. Steve rolled his palm over the top of his length before bringing it to his mouth and licking it the skin. When Steve's hand went back down, his fist blurred as he stroked himself.

"Not gonna last, Buck. Need you."

Bucky nodded. No words could capture the passion burning its way through his veins and making his heart pound at the expectation for more, so he didn't try to speak. He slipped his fingers from his cock to cradle his sack, tugging and rolling with just enough pressure to drive himself crazy. He watched Steve's frenzied movements, wishing he was on his knees in front of Steve, ready to swallow his release.

Steve's knees bobbed at the edges of the screen, shaking with the pressure of his impending orgasm. His moans went straight to Bucky's cock, making it hard enough to smear precum on his stomach. A groan tore from Bucky's throat. He wanted Steve to tumble into pleasure first, but the impulse to move his hand back to his shaft was testing his resolve.

Bucky locked eyes with the man he loved, licked his lips slow and wet in Steve's favorite way. "Come for me, Stevie."

Steve's eyelids slammed shut and his head hit the wall behind him. His knees went still as his cock twitched, releasing spurts of cum that arched in the air before falling to his fingers and thighs and pooling on the sheets. A wrecked mumble of loving words reached Bucky's ears but he couldn't decipher them. His hand was back on his dick, hard and fast.

He watched, jealous and throbbing, as Steve lifted cum-coated fingers to his mouth to taste himself. The obscene slurp broke Bucky. He tried to keep his eyes on Steve but the feeling was too much. He let the gratification surge through him, vibrating from head to toe as his orgasm erupted across the floor of his hut.

A calm, buzzing sensitivity coated Bucky's skin inside and out, warm in Steve's embrace despite the distance. He followed Steve's example and laid down, using the discarded fabric of his clothes to wipe away the mess left behind.

For the first time since they started talking this way, Bucky thought Steve looked truly at peace. No lines of worry clouded his face. No distressing scenarios were playing behind his perfect blue eyes. Bucky's chest ached to wrap around Steve, to keep him safe and content always.

Neither of them said anything, letting their bodies float gently back down from their delectable peaks. Bucky's eyes were heavy, willing him to let sleep take over. Steve's blinks lasted longer each time, his breaths raising his chest a little higher with each inhale. Bucky smiled at the idea of them sleeping together like this.

The twitch of numbers shifting in the bottom corner of the screen caught Bucky's languid notice. He didn't know where Steve was. It was possible the date did not match up yet, but he wanted Steve to know he remembered that too.

"Happy birthday, Stevie."

Steve blinked, glancing at the corner of his own screen before smiling sweet and easy at Bucky. "Thank you, Buck. Best present ever."

Bucky didn't know if Steve meant the sex or the fact that he had remembered the significance of July 4th or something else, but the ignorance didn't blunt his joy. "I love you, Stevie."

"I love you too, Buck."

Bucky fell asleep to the soft grumble of Steve's snores.


End file.
